Taken
by Wiccagirl24
Summary: The fact that Abby didn't show up for work was troubling. The video they recieved hours later of her tied to a chair with a gun pointed to her head was terrifying. WIP, post season 3
1. Chapter 1

Spoilers: Hiatus, more later. Set during the winter of the as yet to air 4th season.

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone or anything related to NCIS. I am, however, tempted to dye my hair black and use the word hinky frequently.

A/N: Thanks to **powerof3** for the quick and awesome betaing, and all my new friends the NCIS forum at take that down to Abby," Gibbs ordered as he slipped out of his wet jacket and hung it on the back of his chair. An outdoor investigation in the middle of a February storm did not put him in the best of moods, and even if the word 'please' were a part of his vocabulary he wouldn't have used it.

"Sure thing Boss." Tony was wise enough not to say a word as he carried the box full of evidence to the lab. In all honesty, he was glad to be following orders. The summer months after Gibbs left were enough to teach him that he wasn't ready to be the one in charge. He had been more then happy to hand Gibbs his gun and badge back when he had returned a few months ago.

"Hey Abbs, I have a present for you." Walking through the sliding doors, Tony looked around the room. It was oddly silent.

"Abbs?" He checked her office, but it too was empty. Frowning, he locked the box up in the cabinet, and made his way back to the bullpen.

"Did Abby give you how long it would take to analyze the gun and the bullets?" Gibbs asked before Tony even made it to his desk.

"Nope." Opening the file cabinet drawer that doubled as a dresser, Tony removed a clean shirt. His was completely soaked, despite the jacket he had worn; the one that he had spent a ridiculous amount of money on because it was supposed to be waterproof.

"You didn't tell her to work on the clothing first, did you? I want to know if the gun is the same one that was used on petty officer Samuel."

"Didn't tell her anything. She wasn't there," Tony explained.

"What do you mean, she wasn't there?"

"She wasn't in the lab. I figured I'd come up here and change, and then go see if she's back." As he spoke, he began to unbutton his soaked shirt.

"Well you though wrong. Go find Abby and ask her to run the damn tests."

"Hey boss, how come you never ask me to do things? Order, demand, dictate, but never ask." Gibbs glare was all the answer he received. "I'll just go back to the lab now."

"Good idea," Gibbs said.

Tony waited in the lab for twenty minutes. The last time he remembered this room being so silent was the week after Gibbs left. Abby hadn't listened to any music and had only spoken when necessary. It had taken more then a month for her to begin to resemble her usual self, but it wasn't until Gibbs returned that she was completely back to normal.

Weighing the risk of returning to Gibbs without talking to Abby or being yelled at for staying away to long, Tony decided that he couldn't wait any longer. Stopping downstairs briefly to check in with Ducky, he once again returned to his desk.

"Give me good news, DiNozzo," Gibbs demanded without looking away from the plasma screen.

"Don't know if it qualifies as good, but Ducky has confirmed that it was the bullet to the heart that killed the Petty officer."

"I pretty much figured that." It might have been overcast and wet in the woods, but it hadn't taken more then a glance at the young man leaned up against a tree to figure that the gapping hole in his chest had killed him. Gibbs was much more interested in the who and why than the how. "What about the gun?"

"I don't know. I haven't been able to find Abby. She's still not in her lab."

"She's always in her lab." McGee turned away from his computer and looked at Tony with a perplexed expression.

"Not always, Probie," Tony remarked.

"Well I didn't mean always always. But if it's a work day, she's in her lab unless she's called somewhere else."

Ignoring them both, Gibbs rapidly dialed seven digits on his phone. His first call confirmed that Abby hadn't checked in that morning. When he was directed to leave a message after making his second call, he barked out 'call me' and pressed the end button. Immediately he dialed her home number.

"You know, if you programmed the numbers in it would be quicker."

Ignoring McGee, Gibbs impatiently listened to the ringing. Again he reached an answering machine. "Damn it, Abby. Where are you? Call me."

"Tony, Ziva, I want you to find out everything about Samuel that you can. McGee, try to find Abby. Call her, e-mail her, if she has a strawberry then call that too."

"A Blackberry, Boss?" McGee asked.

"Whatever," Gibbs said as he put on his still damp jacket.

"Where are you going?" Ziva asked as he headed for the elevator.

"I've got a hinky feeling," was Gibbs' only reply.

In the eight years he had known her, Abby had only missed half a dozen days of work. In every one of those cases, she had called in to say that she would be absent. Only major illness or the rare vacation day kept Abby away from work. With a sinking feeling in his gut, Gibbs left the Navy yard and drove faster then usual to Abby's apartment.

"Abbs, it's me. Open up." Gibbs knocked on the door. When she didn't answer after a minute, he removed a pair of long metal picks from his pocket. Ten seconds was all it took to have the door swinging open. He would have to talk to her about a better lock.

"Abby." It didn't take long to realize that the apartment was as empty as her lab. The gnawing in his gut grew worse. He inspected the apartment briefly, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary; at least not for Abby. The only thing obviously missing was her keys and the hearse, and he fervently hoped that she was simply stuck at the side of the road somewhere with engine trouble. As he drove back to the yard, he mentally listed everything that could have happened between last night and this morning to keep Abby from showing up to work.

"Jethro." The doors of the elevator had barely closed behind him when the Director's voice called from overhead.

"I'm busy," he remarked, only giving her half of his attention. "If you want to talk you'll have to come down here."

"No Jethro, you need to come upstairs." Something in her voice caught his attention, and he climbed the stairs briskly without another word.

"This better be important, Jen." Waiting for her to lead the way, he followed her into the MTEC communications room. His heart almost stopped when she stepped out of his way and he got a clear look at the image on the screen in the front of the room. A woman was tied to a chair and someone was holding a gun to her head. A blindfold hid most of her face, but he had no trouble making out the tattoo of a spider in its web on the side of her neck. Abby.

"Son of a bitch."


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you to everyone who read the first chapter, and to those who left such kind reviews. A special thanks to Binglejells for the beta'ing.

II

"A package was delivered an hour ago, addressed to me. This video was..." Gibbs couldn't stand there listening to whatever she was saying, no matter how important it might be. He had to move, had to do something. Talking wouldn't find Abby; action would. Taking one last look at the video screen, he turned and walked to the door.

"Agent Gibbs..." the director called after him, but he didn't even pause.

"I want that tape downstairs immediately," he ordered as he walked out of the room.

"No answer from Abby yet," McGee informed when Gibbs came into sight.

"There won't be one."

"No reason to be so pessimistic, Boss." Tony took a bite of the sandwich he had purchased when Gibbs was gone to check on Abby.

"Abby's not going to answer her phone because she can't." Cynthia approached Gibbs and handed him a DVD. Gibbs slipped it into the plasma screen. "The reason she can't is because she's been kidnapped."

Everyone froze as Abby's image filled the screen. When Ziva banged her hand on the desk it was enough to break to silence. Tony, McGee, and Ziva all started talking at once. Gibbs silently gave them to the count of ten before letting out a shrill whistle.

"Are you all finished? There's work to be done, but if you would rather stand around and..."

"No Boss."

"Sorry."

"Where do we start?"

They all looked to him as if he had the answers. He was just as lost as they were, but he couldn't let them see that.

"DiNozzo, Abby's car is missing."

"I'll send out a BOLO."

"When you've done that, go talk to Cynthia and the Director to find out where the package came from. Collect whatever it came wrapped in and take is to the lab. Tell..." He almost said Abby, but stopped himself in time. "Tell whatever excuse of a lab-rat they've managed to find that I want a complete analysis on it."

"Right away." Under other circumstanced Tony might have argued that Gibbs should be the one to talk to the Director. Now, he didn't care as long as he was doing something. Quickly he called in the report on Abby's car, and with one more look at the picture on the plasma he left to go find the Director.

"McGee," Gibbs barked.

"Video analysis sir?" Mc Gee questioned even as he removed the DVD from the plasma screen.

"Yes. And don't call me sir."

i _Yes, ma'am_/i Abby's impish voice echoed in Gibbs' memory.

"Uh..." McGee opened his mouth to apologize, but just in time he remembered rule number eight. Pressing his lips together he inserted the DVD into his own computer.

"Ziva, you're with me." Without waiting for a response, Gibbs turned and walked to the elevator. Ziva slid in as the doors were closing.

"Can I ask where we are going?"

"You can ask," Gibbs replied tersely.

"I understand this is a difficult time, Gibbs, but you could at least tell me what we are doing."

"I don't want you understanding, and I'll tell you what I damn well want to tell you." Gibbs pressed the down button three times in rapid succession. He scowled at Ziva and she glared at him, but didn't say a word. There was no discussion when they reached the car either. Gibbs let himself into the driver's side and paused just long enough for Ziva to get into the car before peeling out of the parking lot. Muttering curses in three different languages, she slammed the door closed and fastened her seat belt.

"I thought you were just here," Ziva commented when Gibbs slammed to a halt in front of Abby's apartment building.

"I was." Gibbs climbed the steps to the front door, and for the second time that day let himself in.

"And we are here again because?"

"Because we are now looking at a possible crime scene."

II

"Tony, thank goodness." Ducky stopped in front of Tony's desk, panting slightly. He had grown frustrated waiting for the elevator and had climbed the stairs. "I was just in the lab looking for Abby. Today is Tuesday, and unless there is something pressing to accomplish we always have lunch together on Tuesdays. There was a horrid little man in the lab, and he told me the most preposterous story about Abby being kidnapped."

"It's not a story, Ducky." Tony slapped the side of his computer when it didn't give him the information he was looking for. It was better then looking at the doctor's face when realization sunk in.

"Oh dear lord," Ducky moaned.

"We received intel a little over an hour ago. Gibbs..."

"Is wondering why you're standing around doing nothing but moving your mouth." Gibbs walked into the room, followed by Ziva. Both were carrying cardboard boxes full of items from Abby's apartment. He thrust a box full of computer equipment at Tony and glared at him. "Take this to McGee. Any info he pulls off it, you follow up on. I don't care if it's the name of the hairdresser who does her hair. You follow any lead."

"Abby dyes her own hair Boss," Tony mistakenly remarked.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs warned.

"I'll take this to McGee." Ziva took it on herself to follow Tony out of the room.

"Is there... is there anything I can do to be of assistance, Jethro?" Ducky asked when they were alone.

"No offense, Ducky, but I sure as hell hope we don't need your kind of help. Not unless the person on your table is the bastard who is currently holding a gun to Abby's head."


	3. Chapter 3

Love to Powerof3 for the beta'ing. Thanks to everyone for the reviews, and your patience. I leave for vacation tomorrow night, but I'm going to try to post chapter 4 before I go.

II

Gibbs was going to be i pissed /i . Not that that was unusual, but normally his ire was directed at someone else. This time, it would be focused squarely on her. She had made the worst mistake possible: she had gotten herself kidnapped.

Abby had been getting ready for work when someone had knocked on her door. The woman claimed that she had a flat tire and wanted to know if she could use her phone to call Triple A. Abby should have known then that something was wrong. Who in this day and age doesn't have a cell phone? In a hurry to return to her morning routine because she had once again missed the sound of her alarm clock going off, and feeling the sympathy that anyone who has dealt with constant car trouble would feel, she had let the woman into her home. Gesturing to the phone, Abby didn't notice that her company wasn't alone. Not until she felt the sharp pain at the back of her head. By then it was too late.

She didn't regain consciousness until a car door slammed and she was roughly picked up. She was blindfolded and the only sounds she could hear was the slight scrape of hard soled shoes against pavement and someone's heavy breathing.

"You've made a mistake," she yelled. The person carrying her made no attempt to quiet her, only chuckled. Abby knew then that where ever they were, it was in a location that was remote enough that no one else was around. She was on her own.

"I don't know why you're doing this, but you have the wrong person. I'm not rich, and neither is my family. If this is some pathetic get rich quick scheme, you've screwed up. I'm not your girl." A door opened and closed, and Abby found herself being tossed onto a padded surface. A couch, she decided.

"Oh, you're exactly the right person, Ms. Scutio." His voice was calm; almost reassuring in a creepy sort of way. And she'd heard it before.

II

"Tell me you have something, McGee." Gibbs barked as he stormed into the lab and passed the substitute lab tech without so much as a nod.

"I don't... that is... I..." He hated to admit that he had no leads.

"Yes or no, McGee."

"Nothing yet," McGee admitted in defeat. "There were three messages on Abby's answering machine. One was from a tele-marketer and one was from a bookstore letting her know that the book she had ordered was in."

"And the third message?" Gibbs swallowed the last of his coffee and threw the cup into the trash can.

"A dead end," McGee attempted to evade.

"I'll be the judge of that. Who was the message from?" He fixed McGee with a withering stare.

"It was from you, Boss." The first message was one that Abby had held onto from the previous spring, and it made McGee feel like an interloper, listening to his boss call Abby from the airport to say goodbye.

"Anything pertinent?" Gibbs demanded. He knew without asking what message McGee was talking about, but the only person he would discuss it with wasn't here.

"I printed out the address book on Abby's PDA. Tony's running the names. The last appointment she scheduled was more then a week ago."

"What about you. Have you found anything?" Gibbs turned to the lab tech.

"Me, sir?" the man questioned.

"Ya' think?" Gibbs remarked sarcastically.

"I dusted the envelope and the video tape for prints and didn't find anything. I have a sample of the envelope in the machine to test for DNA, but that will take hours," he said hesitantly.

"You have one," Gibbs informed the tech.

"One what, sir?" the lab tech asked hesitantly.

"One hour to get me results. And if you call me sir again you will regret it."

"There's no way I an run my tests in that amount of time, si... Agent Gibbs."

"Then work faster." Gibbs mentally dismissed the tech and headed for the glass doors. McGee was watching him expectantly.

"We will find her," Gibbs said gruffly. It was a statement, a question, a hope and a prayer.

II

"Out of my way, DiNozzo." Gibbs strode out of the elevator, almost causing Tony to fall backwards as he was forced to move out of Gibbs' path.

"I was just coming to look for you." Tony held a large cardboard envelope which he passed to Gibbs. "This was delivered registered mail ten minutes ago. It's addressed to you."

_ i Special Agent L.J. Gibbs /i , _the label read. Gibbs donned a pair of latex gloves and removed his folding knife from his back pocket. Carefully cutting along the top of the envelope he opened the letter. The first item he pulled out was a familiar leather studded ring. Next came a curl of black hair. Last was white piece of paper with a pair of typewritten sentences. There was nothing special about the font, the ink, or the paper. He would send it down to the lab, but he had little confidence that it would help them.

"What does it say?" Tony asked when Gibbs didn't immediately read the note. Instead of answering, Gibbs handed his the paper; he had already memorized it.

_ i I had everything, and you took it all away. Now it's my turn. /i _


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I'm going on vacation for a week starting tonight. I hope I'll be able to post another chapter from my friend's house, but I don't know yet what their internet's like. So if you don't hear from me, I haven't abandoned the story. I'm working on the next chapter as we speak, and in Chapter 6 the identity of "Mr X" will be revealed.

II

Abby had been kidnapped. It was his fault.

Someone had ripped her ring off her finger. It was his fault.

They had taken scissors to her hair and cut away a lock. It was his fault.

She was blindfolded and tied up. It was his fault.

All of this, everything that had happened, was because of him. Someone was out to get him, and they were using Abby to get it. Whether by accident or design, they had picked the perfect person. He would do anything to get her back. Anything. Standing in the elevator with no one to pay witness, Gibbs swore that if anything happened to Abby, he would make the bastard pay in a slow and excruciatingly painful way.

II

She had run away from home once. When she was ten years old her teacher had read the book i _My Side of the Mountain /i _to her class. Charmed by the idea of living in a tree and fending for herself, she had packed a bag full of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Hershey bars, and a couple of changes of clothes. Early on a Saturday morning she had snuck out of the house and walked to the bus stop, intent on having an adventure in the wilderness.

She had returned the next day. Not only was the Louisiana swamp full of bugs and small animals, but it was also devoid of people. Abby liked people. She liked talking to them, listening to them, watching them. There was no one to talk to in the swamp. There was no one to talk to here either.

Shortly after she had been dragged from the car she had been directed to stand up. A few shuffling steps to the right and she was again seated, this time on a hard wooden chair. Before she had a chance to complain, or at least shift to a more comfortable position, a rope had been wrapped around her waste and knotted firmly. Very firmly. For what seemed like hours she had been tugging and squirming but the ropes hadn't loosened. For that same amount of time she hadn't heard a sound. The man, who she had privately decided to call Mr. X, had stood in the center of the room for a few minutes, and then left through the same door they had entered through.

She was bored. She couldn't see, could barely move, and there was nothing to listen to but the sound of her own voice.

"Okay Abby, it's time to play a little game," she muttered to herself. "Let's call it i _How am I going to get out of this mess /i ?_ Think. You work with people who deal with this kind of stuff every day. All you need to do is think the same way that they do."

She immediately dismissed McGee, because anything he would have thought of she had already tried. Ziva would have killed the guy the moment he touched her, so that wasn't an option either. Tony would have flirted with the woman and punched the man. At this point he'd be making wisecracks or figuring out a movie that this compared to. What she really needed to do, Abby decided, was to figure out what Gibbs would do in this situation.

II

"I had everything, and you took it all away." Ducky peered over Gibbs' shoulder and read the first line of the note out loud "Well that's not very specific, is it? Does he mean you physically took something, some possession, or is it a more liberal use of the word? Someone you sent to prison, perhaps? Of course, that's a terribly long list. It could be..."

"Ducky." Gibbs said. The single word, softly spoken, was enough to stop Ducky's rambling.

"Do you have any idea who the letter is from?" McGee asked without looking away from the letter. Staring at the black letters on the white paper, he counted thirteen words. He wondered if Abby would consider that a good or bad omen.

"Would I be standing here if I did?" Gibbs tone was enough to make McGee flinch in expectation of a head slap.

"Of course not." McGee answered immediately. "I just thought you might have a list or something. You know, the most likely suspects."

"I have a list all right. The problem is it's longer then the list of women DiNozzos' slept with," Gibbs answered harshly.

Leaving McGee to supervise the processing of the letter, Gibbs motioned Ducky to follow him to the elevator.

"How are you holding up, Jethro?"

"I need you to stay here, Duck," Gibbs said without answering his friend's question.

"Here in the lab? Whatever for?" He was intending to stay anyway. He might not be as good in the lab as he was in the morgue, but he knew his way around the equipment. Without Abby around, they were going to need all the help they could get.

"Not in the lab, Duck; here at NCIS. Unless you have an escort, you are not to leave this building."

"Do you really think that's necessary?"

"Someone took Abby to get at me. I'm not taking any chances that they'll stop there."

Gibbs had tried to put himself in the mindset of the man who had kidnapped Abby. If he had done his homework as well as Gibbs was afraid he had, then Ducky was the next logical target.

II

It was like a horrible case of deja vu. Tony scanned the printout of Abby's credit card purchases, marking anything unusual with a highlighter. There were a lot of highlighted lines. Less then a year ago he had done the same thing. The only difference was that then, despite his concern he had known that Abby was safe. Now he had no such reassurance.

"How can one woman spend so much money on makeup?" Tony asked rhetorically when he came across the third credit card charge to a cosmetic company.

"Don't ask me," Ziva remarked. "I wouldn't know."

"How does that not surprise me?"

They lapsed into silence until the phone rang a few minutes later. Tony answered it, and when he hung up his expression was grim.

"That was the police. They've found Abby's car."


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry for the wait, people. I had a great vacation. And then my beta went on vacation (oh, the nerve.) Be glad I waited for her, though. Powerof3 has a great talent at catching me being lazy, and not letting me get away with it. This chapter is better for her help. And now, back to the story.

IIIII

"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" Tony slammed his fist onto the steering wheel of the car, the resulting honk echoing through the garage. Five hours of going over the hearse with a fine tooth comb and he was nowhere. The only hairs he'd found were black, and though he'd bagged them and sent them to the lab he was sure they'd come back as a match to Abby. Fingerprint powder had only revealed that all the hard surfaces had been wiped clean. The only thing that gave him any hope was that the ALS hadn't revealed any blood in the car. Frustrated, he got out of the car and walked around the back to go over the trunk again.

"There's nothing here," Ziva confirmed. "To spend more time down here would be like beating a cat after it's dead."

i A horse /i , Tony corrected mentally, but he didn't say anything out loud, simply nodded his head and unzipped his red coveralls. He stared at the hearse even as he entered the elevator; watching it until the closing of the doors blocked his view.

Gibbs was waiting for them when they got back to the squad room. He took one look at the two of them and knew that they'd come up empty. Grimacing, he motioned to the plastic bag on his desk. Tony's stomach rumbled when he smelled the spicy aroma of curry. It was almost midnight now and the half a sandwich he'd eaten for lunch was long since digested.

"I ordered Indian," Gibbs stated as he distributed the white cartons. "Make sure to save some for McGee. I don't have time to waste with any of your petty squabbles."

"Sure thing boss," Tony muttered as he dug through his desk drawer for a fork. Despite his hunger, he only toyed with the Tandoori Chicken. Leaning back in his chair, Tony made sure that Gibbs was gone before he closed his eyes. He needed to figure out what to do next.

II

"I thought you quit smoking." Jenny had checked the lab, Morgue, MTAC, and half a dozen other places before chancing upon Gibbs in the parking garage. He was pacing back and forth between the parked cars, smoke trailing from the cigarette in his hand.

"I did," Gibbs said as he took a drag and held the smoke in his lungs until it burned. "I've quit a couple of times since Paris. Usually it sticks. Today..." Gibbs shrugged. "There's a limit on how much coffee even I can drink. This seemed like a better alternative."

"Is it helping?" Jenny thought that watching Gibbs right now was like watching a lion in captivity.

"No." He took a few steps towards her, and extinguished his cigarette on the top of the trash can. "Abby'd be lecturing me right now. She calls cigarettes cancer sticks."

"We'll find her, Jethro," Jenny reassured. "Just like you found me last year."

"It isn't the same. Abby isn't a trained agent used to working in the field. She's a lab tech. She's supposed to be safe in the lab." Gibbs reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a silver lighter. He lit one and inhaled deeply. "Besides wanting to hurt me, we don't know this bastard's motive. For all we know, he could have already..." He didn't finish the thought, because hearing the words out loud would make them that much closer to being true. Instead he tamped out the half spent cigarette and opened the door, leaving Jenny alone in the garage.

II

She was thirsty. Not the kind of thirsty she got when the Caf-Pow machine was empty and she had to drink water or coffee, but the kind when she got wrapped up in the wiring of a house and forgot to drink anything for hours. She also really, really had to pee. Abby wasn't sure which sensation was worse. She wiggled in the chair, feeling like an eight year old sitting in the back of the classroom and waiting for the bell to ring. Just when she was afraid she wouldn't be able to hold it anymore, she heard the low rumble of a car engine.

"I have to pee," she stated matter-of-factly the moment the door opened.

"In a minute." It was the same man from earlier, and she decided that was a good thing. If one person was doing everything, that had to mean he would be easier to catch. Didn't it?

"A minute's going to be too late. I don't know how long you've left me here, but I had a Caf-Pow for breakfast and..." The ropes that bound her to the chair were suddenly loosened. Abby tried to stand up but her legs were weak from so many hours in one position. A hand at her elbow steadied her and she was able to stand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Mr. X responded automatically. Abby was certain that she had heard his voice before; now she just had to figure out where.

He led her to the bathroom, and as he untied her wrists he admonished her not to remove the blindfold. The moment she heard the door click shut she tried to do so anyway, but found that the fabric was knotted too tightly. The best she could do was raise the material so she could see under the material slightly. It didn't take any more than that to realize that the bathroom was not going to be any use as an escape route. The lone window was too small for her to squeeze through, and the only door was the one she had come through.

When she finished relieving herself and washing her hands, Abby readjusted the blindfold. Carefully she moved it so that she could just barely see the floor, and hoped Mr. X wouldn't notice the difference. Weighing the risks, she decided to take the opportunity to stretch her muscles, knowing that she was probably facing a return to the chair. Her arms were joined in the middle of her back when a pounding on the door told her that the brief moment of semi-freedom was over.

"Judging from the fact that you've only said a dozen words, I have to assume that you're going for the strong and silent type. And that's cool. I mean, it never makes sense in those movies when the bad guy reveals his whole plan, because the good guy always uses that information against him." She wasn't sure exactly what she hoped to accomplish by talking to him, but once she opened her mouth she couldn't stop.

"I've been here for quite a while, though, and I'd really like to know why. You said it's not about ransom, or at least inferred that it wasn't. You know who I am, but I don't know you, which rules out a personal thing. With the whole bondage thing you could have been an ex, but you're not. So what am I doing here?"

"Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?"

"All the time. My dad couldn't even hear me, with him being deaf and all, and he still..." i Dad. /i With sudden clarity, Abby realized where she knew her kidnapper's voice from.

II

"Report, McGee." Tony and Ziva were both standing at the edge of McGee's desk, and Gibbs hoped that was a good sign.

"I went through Abby's computer, but that was a dead end," McGee complied with Gibbs order. "Nothing on the hard drive that is out of the ordinary. I have to say I was impressed with the way she..."

"I don't care what you didn't find, or what techno whatsit she has. Not unless it's something that will help us find Abby." The frustration that they were all feeling was clear in Gibbs voice.

"Sorry boss," McGee apologized.

"Don't be sorry, be useful."

"Well, we..." McGee began.

"He means me. This was all my idea, I just let Timmy boy do the geek stuff," Tony remarked. Everyone ignored him.

"We decided to focus on the kidnapper. We are starting with the idea that whoever it is was arrested by you, or possibly one of your team. I've formulated a database using statistical variables to give certain factors different weights. Someone who was arrested for murder, for example, would--" McGee stopped as Gibbs cut him off.

"And this will tell me what, exactly?" Even on the best of days Gibbs couldn't take too much of the technical babble.

"Hopefully, it will give us a more manageable list of suspects."

"Then get to it," Gibbs said impatiently.

"Actually, I was just about to run it when you came in." McGee typed in a few commands, and words started flashing across the screen. They all watched in silence until the printer behind them started humming. "I programmed it to send the data to the printer, so we could get the list as soon as possible."

Tony, being the closest, snatched the first page out the moment it finished printing. Scanning the list, one name in particular popped out.

"Fifth name down, Boss." He passed the paper to Gibbs, who held it out at arms length and squinted.

"How the hell is he not in prison?" Gibbs yelled. It was one name on a list of fifty, but Gibbs' gut told him that they had found their man.


	6. Chapter 6

Spoilers: For "See No Evil"

Disclaimer: These characters belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, et al. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Un beta'd, because I really wanted to get this posted and no one seems to be around today.

IIIII

i "This is Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS. If you can hear me, cough once." When his request was met, Gibbs continued. "We are changing the game plan, Skipper. If he contacts you again, tell him you want a good faith gesture on his part. Tell him that you want your daughter returned now. Tell him if you don't get her back, you're gonna take your chances with the FBI. He'll try to intimidate you. We have to call his bluff. Rub your brow if you have the courage to go this route." /i

Abby had felt so bad for the Captain as she watched Gibbs talk to him through the computer screen. His wife and daughter were missing and he couldn't do anything but stay at his desk and trust that complete strangers would be able to save his family. She had felt the weight of that trust, and worked so hard to crack the firewall that would get her into the Captain's computer. A few hours later her resolve had doubled, as she had felt the tearstained cheeks of Sandy Watson press against her skin.

It had been such a relief when the case was over and the family was together again. Even then she hadn't been able to let it go. For eight hours she and McGee had sat in her lab, hitting wall after wall as they attempted to find out the identity of the mastermind behind the kidnapping. She couldn't keep the grin off her face when the money had been routed back to DC and Gibbs had left to catch the man.

She had been about to leave for the night when Gibbs had returned from the bust. It didn't take more then a glance at his face to see that something had gone wrong. He didn't want to answer her when she asked, but after the third time questioning him, Gibbs had had barked at her that the man behind the kidnapping had been Captain Watson himself. Abby had been shocked; how could a man do that to his wife and child? She was less surprised now, to learn that such a man was

capable of kidnapping her.

II

"Captain Watson was arraigned in October of 2004. The charges were conspiracy, theft, and kidnapping," McGee read off the computer screen, mostly for Ziva's sake since the details of the case were unknown to her.

"Get to the part where he's walking around free instead of being locked behind bars." Gibbs hands were curled around the edge of the desk, his knuckles white with tension.

"He was in prison." Tony peered over McGee's shoulder to read the file. "Served the first year of his sentence before petitioning the court for a mistrial."

"His motion was granted, and the case was heard again four weeks ago," McGee resumed the narration. "Two and a half weeks ago the court ruled a mistrial due to a legal technicality and the charges were dropped. Watson was released."

"The hell he was." Gibbs kicked the side of the desk hard enough to leave a dent in the metal. Captain Watson was, in his opinion, the lowest form of scum. If he had had his way, the man would have been locked in a dark room with a pair of speakers playing nothing but the cries of his daughter all day. The fact that Watson was free was unconscionable.

"I'm afraid so Boss." Tony didn't even flinch when Gibbs hit the back of his head.

"McGee," Gibbs said as he went to his desk and removed the gun from the top drawer. "I'm going to need..."

"Mrs. Watson's address?" McGee guessed. He looked at the computer screen and jotted down the information. "Got it."

"Now I need you to do a complete history on Watson. I want an accounting of every moment since he left prison; has he accessed any money, does he own any property, or have any friends? Anything that could tell us where he is and where he's keeping Abby." Gibbs snatched the paper out of McGee's hand. "DiNozzo, You're with me."

"Gibbs?" Ziva questioned. "What would you have me do?"

"Pull the original case file and read through it. Find anything that might help us. And help McGee."

Ziva waited until the elevator doors closed before muttering that she hated paperwork.

"Well that's just too bad. If doing paperwork is what you need to do to help find Abby, then that's what you are going to do." McGee spoke with more anger then Ziva ever remembered hearing from him. He apologized almost immediately.

"No," Ziva said as she shook her head. "You were in the right. Now, how shall we best divide the work?"

II

Mrs. Watson did not live in the same house she had two years ago, and Gibbs wondered if that was by choice or necessity. This home was smaller, and not in the best part of town. It was well tended though; the clapboard painted a cheerful yellow and the grass cut.

"Do you think he's here?" Tony questioned as they walked up the sidewalk and knocked on the front door.

"That would make our job easy," Gibbs remarked. "Ya think Watson is going to do anything to make this easy for us?"

Tony was spared having to answer when the door swung open.

"Hello Sandy, is your mother here?" Gibbs asked. The girl was taller then she had been two years ago, but other then that she looked very much the same.

"I know you." The girl's brow wrinkled in concentration. "You're Gibbs. You found my mom."

"I did, with your help." i I also arrested your dad /i , Gibbs thought, but he didn't say so out loud.

"There's someone else with you."

"I'm Agent DiNozzo," Tony introduced himself.

"You're the funny one. You flirted with the other girl. Is she here too?" Unlocking the screen door, Sandy stepped back to allow the agents to enter the house.

"I didn't..." Tony started to defend himself out of habit before he realized whom 'the girl' was that Sandy was talking about.

"No, she's not here," Gibbs said. There was no reason to tell the girl any more then that.

"She came once, to see me and my mom. It was a couple of weeks after, you know, that day. She brought my mom flowers. The other girl, the one with the pretty voice, came with her and gave me a tape recorder and some tapes."

"I didn't know that," Tony said thoughtfully. It was just the sort of thing Kate and Abby would do, though. They used to do so much together; he had forgotten that. He hated that those small facts about Kate were beginning to slip away. The same wouldn't be true of Abby, he vowed, because they weren't going to loose her.

"My mom's in the garden. The rain gutters are clogged." Sandy led the way through the house, her fingers occasionally skimming the walls as a guide. "Mom, we have company."

"Sandy Christina, what did I tell you about..." Whatever admonishment she had been about to give her daughter was cut off when she saw the two men walk through the door. "Agent Gibbs, what a... surprise."

"Hello Mrs. Watson."

"Jill, please. When you rescue a person from a madman, I think you earn the right to call them by their first name." Jill stood up and brushed her hands on the ragged shirt she was wearing before joining the agents on the covered porch. "Please, come inside. Can I get you something? Coffee or tea? Sandy and I made some cookies this morning."

"No thank you ma'am." Gibbs answered before Tony could say anything.

"Do you mind if I change my shirt real quick? I wasn't expecting company."

"Go ahead. We're in no hurry," Gibbs lied. In his head he heard the sound of a clock ticking. Abby had been missing for more then 24 hours now.

"You're not here to visit, are you?" Sandy asked when her mother left the room.

"What makes you say that?" Gibbs asked.

"You're worried. I can hear it in your voice. You sound the same way my mom does when too many bills come at the same time."

"Yeah," Gibbs admitted. "I am worried."

"Is this about my dad? Did he doing something bad again?" Her voice held a note of resignation, as if an answer of yes would not surprise her. Gibbs hated that. A daughter should be able to trust her father.

"Sorry about that." Jill walked into the room as Gibbs was deciding how much of the truth he should give the girl.

"I'm going to my room," Sandy announced abruptly. As she left she looked straight at Gibbs, her gaze so intent that for a moment he forgot she was blind.

"Jill, Agent DiNozzo has some questions for you. Do you mind if I use your bathroom?" When Tony shot him a look, Gibbs tilted his head slightly in the direction Sandy had gone. Tony nodded in understanding, and retrieved the pad of paper from his pocket.

"Not at all, Agent Gibbs. It's down the hall, the second door to the right." Jill bustled around the kitchen, filling a teakettle with water and placing it on the stove. Gibbs left her with Tony and walked down the hall. Passing the bathroom, he stopped at the door that was painted a pale pink.

"May I come in?" He asked the girl who was seated on the bed. She was playing with something in her hand, but he couldn't make out what it was.

"I kept this," Sandy said instead of answering. She opened her hand to show his the miniature golden badge that was nestled there. "Whenever I get scared, I hold it and it helps me feel better."

"Are you scared about something now?" Gibbs knelt down at the edge of the bed and deliberately softened his voice.

"Uh huh," Sandy nodded. "You wouldn't be here if nothing was wrong. Is this because my daddy called?"

"When did he call you?" Gibbs asked.

"A couple of days ago. Sunday night, maybe, or Monday. Mommy doesn't know that I know. I was supposed to be asleep. I heard her talking and I crept into the hallway to listen. He hasn't called us in a long time. He writes letters and mommy reads them, but I can tell that she leaves pieces out."

"It must be hard not to talk to him," Gibbs empathized.

"He did something very bad, but mommy won't ever tell me what. She gets real quiet when I ask, and latter I can hear her crying." Sandy rolled the badge between her fingers. "When he called, he asked mommy if he could see me. He said that I was his daughter, and he deserved that much. She said no, and hung up on him. I went back into my room before she knew I was there."

"Did you hear anything else?"

"Mommy asked where he was. He wouldn't say, but he said that he was close."

"Good job, Sandy. You've been a big help." Gibbs stood up to leave, but Sandy tugged on his hand.

"Is my dad in trouble?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," Gibbs evaded. He squeezed her shoulder and left the room.

"You ready to go, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked from the doorway of the kitchen.

"Yes, boss." Tony set down his coffee cup and picked up his backpack.

"You did get a phone number, right?" Gibbs asked as they sat in the car.

"She's not really my type." The restraints of the car kept Gibbs from slapping the back of Tony's head, but he flinched anyway. "Yeah, I got her number. She wanted to stay at her sister's but I convinced her that was a bad idea. She's going to a hotel."

"Good." They sat in silence for the next ten minutes, watching the house. When the garage door opened, they followed the sedan for a few miles to make sure that the Watson's weren't being tailed by anyone else. Vaguely disappointed when there was no sign of anyone, Gibbs drove back to NCIS.


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks to Vertizart for the beta'ing.

Warning: This chapter contains both language and violence.

II

"I'm going for coffee," Gibbs said as they pulled into the parking lot.

"Sure thing, boss. I'll go check in with McGee." Tony stood next to the car and watched Gibbs walk away. His walk was slower then usual, the signs of exhaustion clear. Tony knew better then to suggest sleep, though. It would be quite a while, he was afraid, before any of them would be seeing a bed. Fortunately for Tony, like Gibbs he had learned to survive on caffeine and cat naps.

When Gibbs rounded the corner of the building, he purposely averted his eyes from the domed windows that lined the sidewalk. Abby loved her windows. When it was slow he would sometimes catch her looking out them. One time she had laughed, and told him that it amused her to think that the feet of people walking by were at the same level as her head. "It's like they're walking over my grave, and don't know it." That was before Ari. Before Mikel. Before windows were anything to fear. Pulling up his collar against the wind, Gibbs walked down the street to the familiar cafe. Inside it was quiet, the morning rush long past.

"Hello Agent Gibbs." Martha, who had been at the cafe longer then Gibbs had been at NCIS, greeted him. She gave him a warm smile as she removed the largest size cup from the stack and filled it with his favorite blend of coffee. "How are you this afternoon?"

"Fine," he said as he accepted the liquid caffeine.

"I haven't seen Abby around for a couple of days. She hasn't given up on the Caf-Pows, has she?" Martha asked casually.

"She..." Gibbs didn't know what to say. Not the truth, he decided, but more of a gentle lie. "She's out for a couple of days."

"Not sick, I hope. I worry about that one. Too much caffeine and not enough sun; she needs a vacation on a beach somewhere." Never having had children of her own, Martha took it upon herself to 'mother-hen' those around her who she liked. More then once, Gibbs had found himself being offered advice, cookies, and even once a home made scarf.

"I'll tell her you said so." He wished he could say the word and grant her request. He would like to see Abby on a beach, her black parasol protecting her from the sun's rays. He's like to see her anywhere but where she was now.

"Maybe you should go with her. You look like you could use a vacation too," Martha suggested.

"I wish I could," Gibbs muttered as he tossed a five dollar bill on the counter and left with his coffee.

II

"I need to use the bathroom again." He had only been gone a few hours this time, but Abby had formulated a Gibbs-worthy plan. At least she hoped so. She wasn't sure how long it had been since she had been taken, but it was more then a day. Through the crack in her blindfold she had watched the sunlight fade, and after a few fitful hours of sleep she had seen the sun return.

"You bladder is smaller then..." he stopped, but Abby understood that he was thinking of his daughter. If she was lucky, his being lost in the past would give her the extra moment she needed.

When he loosened the robes she fained weakness, allowing him to pull her up. She focused as hard as she could on where he was in relation to her, and the instant she was stable on her feet, she jabbed her elbow into his side as hard as she could. With the ball of her foot she kicked his knee, then ran her boot down his shin and stomped on his foot. While he was swearing and clutching his side, Abby ran for the door. She pulled it open with one hand and with the other she tugged her blindfold, forcing most of the material onto her forehead. A freezing winter wind blew, and never had the resulting shiver been so comforting. It was a step towards freedom.

"You little bitch!" A hand grabbed at her ankle and she was falling forward. The side of her face hit the rough wood of the porch railing. She kicked and squirmed, trying to get away, but she was being dragged back into the cabin. Going limp, she let him thing he had won. When he let go to readjust his grip, she pushed against him with everything she had. Scrabbling up she half stumbled and half ran out the door.

She might have made it, if the steps hadn't been covered with ice. Moving too fast she tripped and fell, landing with a sickening thud on her left arm. The pain was so fierce she didn't even protest when she was yanked up and carried back into the cabin. She bit her lip when he dropped her onto the chair, and couldn't stop a moan from escaping when the rope was jerked hard against her arm.

"That's the last time," Watson barked. "From now on, you don't move."

She might have been afraid of his threat, but everything was clouded by the pain throbbing in her arm. She had broken a leg once, falling from a tree, and it had felt like this. She couldn't focus on anything, and for the first time was relieved when her kidnapper left. She didn't want him to see how weak she really was.

II

"Do you thing she's okay?" Tony was the only other person in the squad room when McGee asked the question no one had yet dared to ask. They had already shared the information they had gleaned in the last hours, and it wasn't much.

"Of course she is," Tony answered.

"Do you really believe that, or are you just saying it because you want it to be true?" McGee looked at the digital numbers in the corner of his computer monitor. It was after 3 in the afternoon now. Abby had been officially missing for thirty two hours. He was all too familiar with crime statistics; forty eight hours was the magic number and it was swiftly approaching.

"Look at the facts, McGee. We're talking about Abby here. Do you remember what she did to my good friend Chip?" Tony couldn't help grinning at the memory of Abby pointing to the Caf-Pow! drenched man duct taped to the floor. "And then there was that hired assassin last year. I think we rescued him from her, when we caught up to them at the van. Abby can take care of herself."

"Yeah." McGee agreed, though he still wasn't convinced.

"What you really should worry about is what Gibbs is going to do to you if you don't have anything for him when he gets back," Tony cautioned.

"I've gone over everything I can think of. Watson doesn't have any bank accounts of his own except for one set up for retirement, and that hasn't been touched. The one he shared with his wife has only been accessed by Mrs. Watson, and the account activity looks normal when compared to the last year. He has no other family, and no friends that I can find. Do you think his wife is helping him?" McGee flipped through the pile of papers in his hands, double checking every fact.

"No, she's clean. She said she hasn't seen him since he was released from prison, and the daughter told Gibbs the same thing. She has nothing to gain from helping him."

"Speaking of gain, what is Watson hoping to gain from kidnapping Abby? And why did he take Abby instead of one of us?" The fact that they hadn't received a demand yet bothered McGee. All they had was a vague threat with not enough clues to tell them anything.

"Abby was easy," Ziva commented as she dropped an evidence box onto her desk. "She doesn't carry a gun, she lives alone, and she's small. If I were after this team, she's the one I'd go after."

"Or he could have done his homework, and found out that Abby was the one who tracked the money," Gibbs offered as he walked into the squad room carrying a cup of coffee.

"Or maybe he-" Tony began.

"He wants two million dollars and safe passage to Cambodia," McGee interrupted.

"You're the one who posed the question, Probie. You can't answer it," Tony snapped.

"I didn't. Watson did. He just sent us an e-mail with his demand." McGee sent the image to the plasma screen so they could all read the communication.

"Two mill I understand, but he can't possibly think we'd let him escape to a country without an extradition treaty," Gibbs said, his eyes narrowing as he read the demand. The word 'attachment' at the bottom of the screen caught his attention. "What's AVI mean?" he asked.

"It's a file extension for a video image," McGee explained.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Play it," Tony demanded.

"Let's see what this bastard has to show us." Gibbs waited impatiently for the file to download. The video, he was certain, would show them Abby. If they were lucky it might also give them a clue to where to find her.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: It feels like its been forever since I posted the last chapter of this fic. Sorry about that. I've been dealing with some things in real life that have effectively smothered my muse, but I think she's coming back, mostly because of the help of some special friends. Thanks to Jane, who convinced me that I just need to write and Erin, who convinced me that I could, and did an awesome beta job on this for me. I promise that the next chapter won't take so long.

II

She was so tired. More then anything Abby wished that she could sleep. She'd do almost anything for a horizontal surface and a pillow; something more then the damn chair. Every time she started to doze off, her head would drop, pulling at the muscles in her shoulder and sending another wave of pain through her arm. She tried to force herself to sit up straighter and do her best not to move the arm, but it was getting harder to care. All her muscles were screaming from staying in one position for so long, that one pain was hardly distinguishable from any other.

Time had no meaning anymore. Days, weeks, months; she wasn't sure how long she'd been here. She couldn't seem to focus on anything. She tried running through the periodic table of the elements in an effort to keep her mind focused. When that had proven to be too difficult she moved to multiplication facts. How many days, she wondered, could she go without sleep or food before it preeminently affected her brain? She'd have to ask Ducky… if she ever saw him again.

"Now don't think like that," she muttered to herself.

"What's that, princess?" a voice asked mockingly.

Damn. She didn't realize that he was back. She must be worse off then she thought, because when she blinked her eyes and squinted, she noticed not only was he back, but he had set up a video camera.

"I've always wanted to be in a movie," Abby croaked sarcastically. She bit down on her lower lip and tried not to wince when her kidnapper deliberately squeezed her bad arm.

"Listen, bitch." Watson bent close to her ear, his breath making her squirm. "Pay close attention to what I am about to say. I am sending a message to your friend Gibbs. If you try to talk while the camera is recording, I will hurt you. This is between me and him. Do you understand?"

Abby nodded reluctantly, but it wasn't good enough for Watson. When he again applied pressure to her arm, she spat out a "yes, Sir."

"Good." Pushing the record button on the remote in his hand, Watson began speaking. Abby ignored him; what ever he said was of no consequence to her. She had a plan, and this time it was sure to work.

II

"I'm going to kill him," Gibbs growled when the video started playing. Forgetting the coffee cup, he balled his hands into fists. The hot liquid scorched his skin, but Gibbs didn't notice. His attention was focused on the image on the screen. He had prepared himself for seeing Abby tied up and blindfolded. He'd watched the first video often enough that the pictured was burned into his brain. This was a different matter.

The bastard had hurt her. One cheek was covered in a deep purple bruise, and dried blood was visible at her temple, but it was the way that she was cradling her left arm close to her body that had Gibbs absolutely seething. And that was only what he could see; who knew what else he had done to Abby?

"Oh my God." McGee's face paled and his hands faltered on the keyboard. Tony swore under his breath when McGee accidentally hit the pause button. Only Ziva appeared unaffected. A few bruises and a little blood didn't worry her; she had suffered both and inflicted much worse. The gun pressed into the side of Abby's neck was a different matter. Her fingers itched to rip it away from him and teach him what it felt like to be on the business end of a weapon.

The man on the video was wearing a ski mask and gloves, but when he looked into the camera all of their suspicions were confirmed; the blue eyes were indeed those of former Navy Captain Michael Watson. Gibbs barely gave him a glance, tuning out the altered voice as it explained how they were to deliver the money. He was entranced by Abby's face. He read it for any clue it could give him about how she was holding up and what she was feeling. He was relieved by the fact that her eyes were sharp and clear. At least she wasn't unconscious or drugged.

Focused, he almost missed the clue he had been hoping to find. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed something. It might have been nothing, but he had to be sure.

"Play it again," he instructed.

"The whole thing?" McGee asked resignedly.

"Not yet. Go back about thirty seconds." There it was, a motion at the bottom of the screen. Stepping backwards towards his desk, not wanting to look away from the screen, Gibbs opened up the top drawer and removed his glasses.

"One more time." Watching the clip for a third time, he couldn't help but smile. It might have been subtle, but it was just what he needed. "That's my girl," he muttered affectionately.

"Boss?" Tony questioned confusedly as he watched a grin spread across Gibbs' face.

"McGee," Gibbs said, ignoring Tony. "Pull up that computer thing you used last year. The one with the satellite pictures."

Despite the vague details, McGee knew what was being asked of him. It only took him a few minutes to access the satellite imagery scanning software that he had originally designed to find a serial killer's dumping ground.

"Ready boss," McGee said. Silently, he wondered what new information Gibbs had been able to glean from the grainy video image, but unlike Tony he didn't have the nerve to ask.

"Abby's being held in a cabin high up enough in elevation that they received snow in the last few days. There are no neighbors, or at least none in residence right now. And somewhere within view of the cabin in a cell tower. Find me that cabin, McGee. Now." Gibbs circled around his desk and sat in the chair. He wanted to be within reach of his drawer, so that the moment they had a location he could grab his gun and leave.

"I don't get it," Tony admitted. "All I see is Abby and a coward in a mask. What are you seeing that I'm not?"

"It's not what I'm seeing, it's how I interpret it." Any other time, Gibbs would have remained silent until Tony figured it out on his own. Today he didn't have the time or the patience. "Watch her hands."

It only took Tony a few seconds of watching to realize what Gibbs was talking about. "Sign language," he grinned. "She told you all those details in signs." His smile faded and turned into a frown. "You don't think Watson noticed, do you?"

"For Abby's sake I hope not," Ziva spoke for the first time since the video had played. "At this point, Watson doesn't have much to lose. If he thinks that Abby gave us enough clues to find them, there is no telling what he might do."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Gibbs growled. Glaring at McGee, as if that would make the computer search any faster, Gibbs pulled out his gun and laid it on the desk. Clasping the clip in the palm of his hand, he rubbed it with the pad of his thumb as if the motion would bring him luck. Just as he was about to order Tony and Ziva downstairs to gas the truck, McGee jumped up.

"I've got it, boss!" he exclaimed. "There are only two areas within the parameters that match the info you gave me."

"Good. You and Ziva can take one, Tony and I will take the other." Sliding the clip into the gun in one effortless motion, Gibbs jumped out of his chair and snatched the piece of paper with the coordinates written on it out of McGee's hand. "Coming, DiNozzo?"

"On your six, boss." Tony grabbed his own gun and followed Gibbs to the elevator: Ziva and McGee right behind them.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I am not an action writer, so this chapter took a while to get it right. Thanks to Binglexjells for the beta job on this, and Cattylizzie for the DC research.

II

"We'll walk in from here," Gibbs announced as he parked the car on the side of the dirt road. They were still a good quarter of a mile from the location McGee had given them, but he didn't dare get any closer for fear of alerting Watson of their presence. So far as he knew the element of surprise was theirs, and he wanted to keep it that way.

Tony nodded and unbuckled his seat-belt. He tried not to let Gibbs notice the fact that he needed to lean against the car for a few seconds before he could stand on his own. His hand was sore from clenching the side of his seat so tightly, and he flexed his hand a few times to relax the muscles. The last ten miles of their trip had been on a switchback trail, and Tony had been convinced more then once that they were going to fly off the side of the mountain. The trip from DC to their current location should have taken three hours. It took Gibbs just over two. It might have taken less, but not even Gibbs could make the traffic on the Fourteenth Street bridge go any faster then its usual crawl.

"Let's go get Abby," Tony said as he accepted the bullet proof vest that Gibbs handed him. He could feel the sharp edge of adrenalin building up in exception. With every fiber of his being he believed that Abby was going to be found today. McGee had called half an hour ago, muttering under his breath about never letting Ziva drive anywhere again, and informed him that they had come up empty. It was up to him and Gibbs now. She had to be here, because there was no other option.

Gibbs' only answer was a firm nod as he fastened his own vest and started walking up the road. His gun was already out of its holster in preparation. Tony had no doubt that Gibbs was fully prepared to use whatever force was called for. He wondered if Watson had any idea just what kind of wrath he had tempted when he had decided to take on Special Agent LJ Gibbs. Tony very much doubted it.

They walked in silence until the dirt road they followed turned into a wide clearing. In the middle of the treeless circle was a rustic cabin; parked in front was a battered pick up truck. Either they had found Watson and Abby or they were about to give some hunter the scare of his life.

"Not much cover," Tony muttered under his breath.

"Then I guess we'll have to be extra careful to be quiet, won't we?" Gibbs turned his attention to the front door of the cabin, and Tony understood without asking that he should walk around to the back to cover any other exits.

"Good luck," Tony said as they separated. Before he rounded the corner to the back of the cabin Tony glanced at his boss. Gibbs had made his way to the bottom of the steps. His gun was raised and there was something about the way he held it- it was almost like an extension of him. On the backside of the cabin there was another door. Peering into the window to make sure know one was in the room, Tony observed a small and rustic kitchen. Not caring for anything other then the fact that the room was empty, he cautiously opened the door.

There were half melted puddles of snow on the steps leading up to the front porch. Gibbs was carefully not to step in any of them. He didn't want even the slightest sound, not even something as innocuous as crunching snow, to alert his prey to his presence. It wasn't until he was on the third step that Gibbs saw the streak of blood on the weathered wood of the porch. It wasn't much but it could have come from Abby. There had been dried blood on her temple. After climbing the last two steps Gibbs flattened himself against the cabin wall next to the front window.

Grimily he pressed his lips together and took a deep breath to prepare himself. Slowly he edged away from his position against the wall and looked through the glass. This was the right place, and the bastard wasn't expecting them. Watson was sitting on the couch, his eyes closed. Gibbs sighed with relief; he obviously hadn't caught Abby's sign language message.

Abby. She was still tied up to the same chair, with duct tape over her mouth. It was even harder to see in person then it had been on the video. He wanted to rush in and rescue her, but years of training over ruled his instinct; he needed to give Tony time to get into position. As he counted out the seconds in his head, he wrapped his left hand around the doorknob and slowly turned it. He gave Tony a count of one hundred before pushing the door open. It squeaked.

"Don't even think about it, Watson," Gibbs warned when the man sprung out of his seat and reached for the gun lying on the table next to him. He heard Abby's muffled squeal of recognition, but he didn't dare acknowledge her. He needed to focus.

"Think about what?" Fear and anger warred with each other in his eyes, but his voice was surprisingly affable.

"Hands in the air," Gibbs ordered. Watson had tried that 'good old boy' attitude on him once before, and Gibbs still burned to know that he had fallen for it. This time he knew exactly whom he was dealing with.

"Sorry, Gibbs, but I wasn't really expecting company and I don't have time to sit and chat." Gibbs took a step towards him, but Watson moved too fast. Instead of going for the gun he sidestepped in the other direction, positioning himself behind Abby's chair. His arm wrapped around her neck. Abby tried to pull away from him, but Watson only tightened his hold.

"This is between you and me, Watson. Let her go." Gibbs didn't like the way Watson was positioned. There was something in the way he stood and the placement of his arm that spoke of an ability to inflict pain or kill without the aid of a weapon. His gun was centered on the other man's forehead, but Gibbs wasn't one hundred percent certain that he could pull the trigger before Abby was hurt; he wouldn't take that risk.

"It's about you, Gibbs, but the girl isn't blameless. She played her part in our game, and has to pay for that." Watson used his free hand to pull on Abby's wounded arm, watching Gibbs the whole time. "Plus she's my insurance that I get out of here safely. It's not like you are just going to let me walk out of here. Abby is coming with me."

"Like hell she is!"

"You can't stop me. I have the hostage and all you have is-"

"A partner, you moron," Tony said as he struck the former captain on the back of the head with his gun. Watson fell to the floor with a loud thump.

"It's about time, DiNozzo." Gibbs holstered his weapon and started to untie the ropes binding Abby to the chair. "You're safe now."

"I'll get the rope," Tony said non-apologetically as he removed a knife from his pocket. "You get the tape."

"Okay." Gibbs reached up to the silver adhesive. Her good arm untied, Abby caught his attention with her hands. i Just yank it off/i she signed. Grimily, Gibbs nodded.

"Hey Gibbs," Abby whispered when the tape was gone.

"You okay?" He asked as he cupped her face between his hands. "You gave us a hell of a scare."

"I..." At that moment Tony cut through the last of the rope and she fell forward. Gibbs caught her easily, but in doing so pinned her arm between them. The added jolt of pain proved to be too much, and she fainted.

"How is she, boss?" Tony asked worriedly as he folded up his knife.

"She's going to be fine," Gibbs vowed. Picking her up as carefully as he could, he carried her the few feet to the couch and laid her down. "Why don't you go get the car? I want to get her to a hospital as soon as possible."

"What about Watson?" Tony pulled his gaze away from the painful vision of Abby on the couch and scowled at the unconscious kidnapper.

"I'll take care of him."

"Sure thing." Tony caught the keys when Gibbs tossed them, and jogged out of the cabin. Not bothering with the steps he jumped over them and ran down the road at full tilt.

Gibbs reached down for one of the rope pieces to tie Watson's hand together, but before he could straighten up he was tackled from behind.

"You ruined everything," Watson yelled as he rammed a fist into Gibbs' side.

"Not sorry about that," Gibbs grunted as he pulled away from his assailant. Turning to face Watson he threw his fist into the man's solar plexus. Watson fell backwards and landed on top the coffee table. His weight caused the wooden legs to snap and the table to break. Watson didn't stay down long, though. With one of the shorn table legs in hand he stumbled to his feet. He charged at Gibbs, but Gibbs was ready for him. A single bullet to the heart was all it took to stop Watson.

Gibbs crouched at the bleeding man's side just long enough to feel for a pulse. There wasn't one. Hearing the familiar engine sounds of an NCIS Ford pull up outside the cabin, he stepped over the dead man.

"I've got you Abbs," he said to Abby's unconscious form as he picked her up. "Now let's get out of here."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Much thanks to apiratescrime for the betaing and the suggestions. This chapter contains one of Tony's movie allusions. Virtual cookies if you know what movie it is.

II

"I'll go get Watson so you can stay with Abby," Tony offered as he opened the back car door.

"No need." Gibbs gently set Abby on the seat and closed the door before walking around to the opposite side of the car. "He's dead."

"Dead? What-" As angry as he was, Tony knew that Gibbs wouldn't have shot an unconscious man. Something must have happened in the cabin after he left.

"Later, DiNozzo; now you need to drive." Gibbs let himself into the back seat so that he could sit next to Abby. Weighing the risks of hurting her arm further against not wearing a seat belt, he reluctantly fastened it around her. She moaned slightly but didn't wake up.

"Sure thing, Boss." With one last glance at the cabin, Tony started the engine of the car and started down the mountain. Getting help for Abby took precedence over everything else.

Gibbs knew that his first call should be to the director, to let her know to send another team to secure the crime scene and send a truck for Watson's body. She would be angry if she knew that he called other people first. He didn't give a damn. His team had been going through hell during the past days, and relieving their worries would be worth whatever lecture he had to sit though from Jen.

"We've got her," he stated simply when McGee answered his phone.

"Is she okay?" It was almost a plea, as if Abby's safety was up to Gibbs.

"We're taking her to the hospital now. The sooner you get there, the sooner you can see for yourself how she is." Gibbs half answered. He knew that McGee wouldn't be satisfied with that. "She's going to be okay," he added.

"We'll meet you there," McGee said. Once he hung up McGee snatched the keys out of Ziva's hand and jogged to the car.

II

"Autopsy," Ducky said as he answered the phone.

"It's me Duck."

"Thank God, Gibbs. I've been waiting for your call. For the past hour I've been pacing, and I'm afraid Mr. Palmer's nerves are rather frazzled. We haven't even had a body to work on to take our mind off the waiting." He had sent Palmer off twenty minutes ago on a made up excuse, just to give the young man something to do.

"You'll have your body in a little while," Gibbs commented sardonically.

"Please," Ducky gasped, "tell me it's not-"

"It's not Abby," Gibbs reassured quickly. He hadn't meant to scare Ducky. "It's Watson."

"You killed him." It wasn't a question, because Ducky had no doubt. The only emotion he felt in connection to Watson's death was relief. "Now what about our Abigail?"

II

Tony pulled the car alongside the red painted curb, not caring about tickets or the paperwork involved if his government issued car got towed. All that mattered was that it was the closest he could get to the emergency room door without parking on the sidewalk. He had actually considered the sidewalk, but decided that the extra few feet wouldn't help any.

"I need a doctor here," Tony yelled into the deserted hospital lobby as he held the door open for Gibbs. It was a small hospital and he had been tempted to drive past it and head for D.C. where they had nationally recognized care centers. When he made the suggestion, however, Gibbs just glared at him.

"Now," he shouted when no one appeared immediately.

"Can I help you?" A nurse in a white uniform entered the room, moving slower then Tony liked.

"We need help. My friend, she needs help." He nodded towards Abby, who was cradled in Gibbs' arms.

Gibbs, however, was not nearly as polite as Tony. "If I don't see a doctor in sixty seconds there will be hell to pay." Carrying Abby past the nurse he used his foot to kick open the doors that lead from the waiting room and into the treatment area. The bed closest to the door was empty, and with a tenderness few would believe he was capable of Gibbs laid Abby down.

"Sir, you can't just come barging in here." The nurse from the waiting room chased after him.

"I can and I did. Now where's my doctor?"

"I'm Dr. Holmes." He was wearing a lab coat and had a stethoscope around his neck, but Gibbs didn't like how young he was. Younger then Tony, younger then McGee. Too young to have the knowledge and experience that Gibbs expected of someone he would trust with one of his team. With Abby.

"Not a med student," Gibbs glared at the nurse. "I said I wanted a damn doctor."

"I assure you that I am a fully qualified doctor." The young man looked straight at Gibbs, his gaze not wavering, and Gibbs relented.

"Alright then," Gibbs said. "Now fix her."

As the doctor began his examination the nurse tried to catch Gibbs attention. "I need you to answer some questions, sir. You'll have to come with me."

"No," Gibbs stated, his eyes never leaving Abby.

"I have to insist. There are forms that need to be filled out, and you can't be back here anyway."

"I'm not leaving here until I can take Abby with me." He crossed his arms and took a step backwards so that his back was to the wall. He didn't lean on it for support, though.

"If you don't go out to the waiting room I am going to have to call security and have them escort you out of the hospital." As the head nurse she was used to having her orders obeyed by staff and patients alike. She wasn't about to let anyone flaunt her rules, especially not this silver haired stranger in wrinkled slacks and a dirty polo shirt.

"They can try, but I don't think they'll succeed. The last man who decided to take me on wound up dead."

She couldn't decide if he was serious or not, but wasn't about to risk finding out. She pursed her lips as she turned and left the room. She would have to see if the younger man that had accompanied the injured woman had any answers.

II

Tony hated hospitals. Every time he walked into one he was reminded of a time he desperately tried to forget. His lungs felt constricted as he remembered what it was to fight for every breath, knowing that each one might be his last. Even more painful he remembers Kate being with him, rolling her eyes at his movie references, groaning when he flirted with their nurse, lying to him about being sick too so that he wouldn't be alone. He left that hospital as soon as he could, and returned to work sooner then he should have.

This was different, he lectured himself as he paced the length of the waiting room. Abby wasn't dying, she was far from dead. She wasn't in danger anymore, he and Gibbs had seen to that. The doctors would patch her up and they would take her back to D.C. where she could recover. She'd probably insist on coming back to work as soon as possible. McGee would hover and Ducky would lecture her about her health and Gibbs would bring her Caf-Pows and insist on walking her to her car at the end of every day. Everything would return to normal, or as close to normal as their lives ever were. But first they had to get out of this stupid hospital. He hated hospitals.

"Tony, where is she?" McGee ran through the door, heading straight for Tony. He was breathing hard, and Tony wondered how far away he had parked. He knew without question that Probie would never park in the red zone like he had. Now if Ziva had been driving she would have parked over the red line.

"If you were that anxious to get here, McGee, you should have let me drive." Ziva joined the other two agents in the waiting room.

"He was probably trying to make sure he arrived as a visitor, not a patient." Tony grinned at Ziva when she glared at him. She would have yelled at him for the insult, if they had been anywhere else.

"Where is Abby?" McGee repeated his unanswered question.

"Back there," Tony said as he gestured at the door at the opposite end of the room.

"Okay, let's go." McGee started across the room. Tony shook his head.

"Not going to happen Probie. She'll never let you in there."

"Who?" Brows furrowed, McGee looked from the door to Tony.

"Nurse Ratched. I've already tried everything I can think of, and she won't let me in there. I even tried flirting with her and that didn't work."

"What, there's a woman who can resist your charms? I almost find that hard to believe." Ziva settled in a chair, picked up an outdated magazine, and propped her feet up on the table in front of her.

"But where is Gibbs then? I mean, if they aren't letting anyone in there, then shouldn't he be out here?"

"Oh, Gibbs is in there with Abby. The man is used to ignoring the orders of entire government agencies, do you really think hospital policy would keep him out?" From the look on his face when he carried Abby out of the cabin, Tony would have to say that nothing short if Satan himself would keep Gibbs from being with Abby right now.

"So what do we do then?" McGee unknowingly took over Tony's former activity, pacing the room from one end of the room to the other.

"It's a waiting room," Tony answered as he sat on the chair next to Ziva. "So we wait."


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Much thanks to **thoughtgoddess** for the betaing. Sorry about the long wait between chapters, but I was busy touring the set and meeting Gerald and Ari. There are at least 2 more chapters, and I'm going to try really hard to get them done by the end of the month. I'm taking a fanfic hiatus for the month of November (NaNoWriMo.)

II

She was lying in a hammock as it swung gently back and forth. The air was thick and heavy like the summers of her childhood, and she could hear the soft chirping of the cicadas on the riverbank. The only thing that would make it better was if she had a Caf!Pow in her hand. But then she would have to open her eyes and she was enjoying the sensation of floating.

i Abby, its time to wake up. /i

'I'm not sleeping,' she wanted to argue. 'I'm just resting my eyes.' But she couldn't speak, couldn't tell whoever was calling to leave her alone. She couldn't move her arm either. Something was weighing it down, pressing it against her chest. She tried to struggle against the weight but her arms became entangled in the hammock. No, not the hammock, she remembered as the Louisiana summer faded away. The rope. Watson's rope, holding her to the chair. She must have fallen asleep, but the dream was gone now.

i Open your eyes, Abbs. /i

How dare he call her Abbs? That was a nickname that only her closest friends used. When she first met Tony he had called her Abbs and she had refused to give him the test result he was asking for. That was the first time Gibbs had slapped the back of his head. It had taken months, and dozens of Caf!Pows, before she had told him that he could use her nickname. Her kidnapper did not get that privilege. It didn't really matter, though. She had sent a message to Gibbs and he was going to find her. She almost felt sorry for Watson when that happened. Gibbs, with his icy blue stare and his gun held in a steady hand, was not someone to mess with.

"Gibbs is coming," she muttered, licking her dry lips. At least the duct tape covering her mouth was gone.

i Abby/i

A warm hand cupped her cheek and the persistent voice grew more demanding. With her eyes closed the voice sounded almost like Gibbs. The neurons in her brain must be going haywire dealing with the pain and lack of nutrition if it could be tricked into thinking Watson sounded like Gibbs. No one in the world sounded like Gibbs except for Gibbs. The voice kept calling her, demanding that she open her eyes, until she finally relented. Maybe then he would stop talking and she could return to her dream. Sometimes when she dreamed she could change things around her, and she'd like to see if she could change the hammock on the bank of the river into a handmade wooden boat so she could sail away.

Her eyelids were so much heavier than she remembered them being. Maybe the blindfold weighted them down again. She couldn't feel the rub of the rough material against her skin, though. When she concentrated as hard as she could on opening her eyes she finally succeeded. Everything was blurry at first, but then it came into focus. She wasn't in the cabin anymore, wasn't tied to the chair. And unless she was hallucinating, the man leaning over her bed and repeating her name was Gibbs.

"Are you a dream?" she rasped.

"None of my ex-wives would call me a dream. In fact, at least a couple of them would say the opposite." He smiled at her, but it was more out of relief than humor. He had been sitting next to her hospital bed ever since they had moved her from the emergency room to the third floor four hours ago.

"Are you sure you're not a dream or a hallucination? Because it would be a mean trick if you weren't really you and I woke up back in the cabin and..."

"Abbs." He stopped her with a finger pressed gently to her lips. "I'm really here and you are never going to be in that cabin again. Okay?"

His finger still resting against her skin, Abby only nodded. The sudden motion was enough to cause the room to spin, or at least that was the way she perceived it. Her first reaction was to throw out her arms to steady herself, but when she did she found that neither arm moved easily. One was encased in white plaster, and the other one was tethered to an IV line.

"So I guess it really was broken, huh?" Gibbs expression was grim when she drew his attention to the cast. There was a trace of anger in his eyes, and even though she knew it wasn't directed at her she didn't like it. "Plain white plaster? They didn't have black, or pink, or camouflage? White is not going to blend well with my fashions."

As she had hoped, her teasing was enough to pull a smile from Gibbs. It faded too quickly, though, and was replaced by a look that Abby was all too familiar with- the one he wore when he wanted answers without all the extraneous details. Abby wasn't ready to answer the questions she knew that he would ask.

"Why don't you sit down, Gibbs. I'm not going to make a dash for the door if you relax." Studying him carefully she could see signs of exhaustion, and she worried about him. If she knew Gibbs, he probably hadn't gotten more than a few hours of sleep in the last few days. She'd bet good money that his usual coffee intake had doubled, if not tripled, in order to compensate. If she tried to suggest that he get some rest he'd refuse, but at least she could get him off his feet.

Gibbs shook his head. "I should let everyone know that you are awake."

"Everyone?" Abby furrowed her brow and looked over at the empty doorway. "Who else is here?"

"Who isn't here?" Gibbs muttered. "Tony's been here the whole time. He was... he and I were the ones who found you at the cabin. McGee and Ziva got here shortly before they moved you up from the ER. Ducky and Palmer arrived about an hour ago."

"Are things at work really that slow? Shouldn't they be out working cases?" She remembered vaguely that they had been working a case involving a Petty officer, and wondered who had processed the evidence while she was gone. Who ever it was better not have messed with her computer or her CD collection.

"The only case we've been working since Tuesday morning is yours." Jen had said something about reassigning his team's current cases to other NCIS agents, but for the first time in his career he hadn't given a damn about his work.

"Oh." It was strange to think of everyone gathered in a hospital waiting for her to wake up. Like déjà vu, except that she and Gibbs had traded places. Because she knew what they were feeling right now, she reluctantly let Gibbs out of her sight. "You'll come right back, though, won't you?"

"I promise." He kissed her forehead, lingering with his lips against her skin for a moment before leaving the room.

II

They must have all been waiting just outside in the hallway, because Abby didn't even reach a count of sixty before Gibbs returned. Tony entered the room right behind him, with a handful of markers. "I figured you'd want the cast decorated ASAP," he teased. "Plain white plaster just isn't you."

"That's what I said." She smiled at Tony, but he didn't look her in the eyes. He already had one of the pens uncapped, and after moving a chair so that it was positioned to the side of her arm he sat down and began doodling on her cast. His face was half turned away from her, and she couldn't read his expression at all.

Ziva's expression was much clearer as she walked through the doorway. Concern, which a year ago would have been strange but now was reassuring, and an anger that rivaled Gibbs' own. She didn't say anything, but nodded and moved to stand in the corner of the room. Abby was reminded of the guards at Buckingham palace- unmoving but with a watchful eye.

"I thought you might find this comforting, Abby." Ducky's arms were full as he entered the room, Jimmy following with a nervous smile.

"You are a prince among men, Ducky." Abby tried to reach up for the stuffed hippo, forgetting about the immobility of her arms. Ducky gently raised Abby's arm and placed Bert on the bed next to her, letting her hand rest on the grey plush.

"There may have been a Lord or two among the Mallard ancestors, but I'm afraid that is as noble as my family gets. You, on the other hand my dear, are going to receive better treatment than the queen. I've been talking with your attending physician and..."

"I don't think she needs any of the details right now, Duck." With a pointed glance Gibbs stopped Ducky.

"You are right, Jethro. Forgive me, Abigail. All you need to know is that everything is going to be fine, and we are all going to ensure that you are completely taken care of."

"Thank you, Duckman. For bringing Bert and for looking out for me."

"My pleasure."

"Hey McGee." Her eyes were starting to droop by the time she noticed McGee standing at the foot of the bed.

"Hey Abby. You look-"

"Like crap?"

"No, not at all. You look… I'm just happy to see you." There had been times during the past days when he had wondered if he ever would see her again. See her alive. He didn't say that out loud, though.

"Thanks Timmy," she half said, half yawned.

"Go to sleep, Abbs," Gibbs ordered.

"I only just woke up," she argued half-heartedly.

"Your body needs sleep to aid in your recovery," Ducky said, backing up Gibbs.

"It's okay, Abby. We'll all still be here when you wake up." Tony, understanding how Abby felt, looked up from his pen to reassure her.

"Promise?" she asked. Her eyes fluttered closed before anyone could reply. She didn't see Jimmy leave the room to scavenge for extra chairs and didn't see McGee and Ziva slip out only to return in minutes with coffee for everyone. She would have been comforted to see the way everyone settled around the room; they weren't going anywhere.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I wish all chapters would flow as well as this one did. Thank you to all that reviewed the last chapter, and a special thank to Binglexjells for the beta'ing!

II

She awoke with pain shooting down the length of her arm and a scream trapped in her throat. Before she let the scream escape, though, her gaze fell on the tousled blond head resting on the mattress near her arm. With a faint snoring emitting from his open mouth, Tony was asleep. A red marker was still clutched in his right hand. He had forgotten to replace the lid, and as a result there was a jagged red line across one of his cheeks.

She wasn't alone.

The room was blanketed in shadows, a single table lamp offering the only illumination. The room's window was hidden behind annoyingly cheerful yellow drapes. Under the window Ducky and Ziva occupied a pair of chairs. Ducky's face was covered by his straw panama hat, and Ziva was using his shoulder as a pillow. In the opposite corner, Jimmy was also sleeping in a chair. He was slumped so far forward that he looked like he should tumble to the floor at any moment, but he somehow stayed in place. Not even his glasses moved from their precarious placement at the end of his nose.

The pain in her arm that had awoken her throbbed again. She squeezed Bert in reaction. No one stirred at the sound he released.

"You awake, Abby?" McGee asked in a whisper from where he stood in the doorway.

"Nope." Abby was careful to turn only her head as she looked to McGee. "I must be talking in my sleep."

"You don't talk in your sleep," McGee commented knowingly. He uncapped the water bottle he had just gotten out of the hallway vending machine and took a sip before offering it to Abby. "Water?"

"Thanks McGee. My throat is drier then the Sahara." McGee held the bottle to her lips so she could take a sip. The cool liquid was the best thing she ever remembered drinking. "I'll never take water for granted again."

"What do you mean?"

"It's not something you really think about, but after a couple of days of nothing it tastes even better then a Caf-pow!"

"Nothing? Watson didn't give you water or food while he had you?" Somehow that seemed even worse then the broken arm, the rope burns, the bruises.

"Yeah, he wasn't the best of hosts." She started to take another sip of the water, but the pain in her arm caused her to grimace and the water dribbled ineffectively down her chin.

"What's wrong?" McGee set down the bottle on the nightstand and reached for the light switch.

"Don't do that, Timmy. You'll wake everyone up."

"None of them would mind," he said, but to please her he didn't turn on the overhead light. "Are you in pain? Do you want me to get a doctor for you?"

"I don't need anything. The arm's just a little sore."

"Your arm is broken in two places. If the medication the doctor gave you earlier is wearing off it's going to be more then a little sore. Let me go get someone."

"I'm fine, McGee. I don't want to..."

"Don't want what, Abbs?" Like McGee, Gibbs stood framed in the doorway. He was holding a coffee cup instead of water, though, and had a closed cell phone in the other hand. He slipped the phone into his pocket as he stepped into the room and readdressed his question. "What is it that she is refusing, McGee?"

"I was offering to go find a nurse for her, boss. Her arm is hurting," he explained.

"Then what are you doing here? Go," Gibbs ordered.

"Really, guys..." Abby started to protest.

"Now, McGee." Gibbs ignored Abby until McGee left the room.

"There's no reason to bother a nurse, Gibbs."

"It's the nurse's job to be bothered. How much does the arm hurt?" he asked as he sat in the hard plastic chair next to her bed.

"Less then it did yesterday," was all that she would admit.

"Would that be more like when you cut your finger on the jagged edge of a computer micro thingy, or closer to being shot?"

"I've never been shot, but I'd say more of the first. It's kind of like what I imagine Tony's head feels like on days you are particularly frustrated with him."

Maybe he heard his name being mentioned, because Tony let out a particularly loud snore. He also moved his hand just enough to touch his cheek with the pen again, leaving a flattened circle next to the line already there.

"Only you, DiNozzo," Gibbs muttered as he took the pen out of the sleeping agent's hand.

"You should tell him when he wakes up," Abby suggested. "Before he tries to flirt with any of the nurses."

"No, I don't think I will."

"Your arm is hurting, Miss Sciuto the nurse asked as she entered the room. Abby made a face at the way the nurse mispronounced her name. Gibbs was watching her with a single brow raised, and she sighed.

"A little," she admitted. "And please call me Abby. Pretty much the only people who call me Sciuto are lawyers." And deranged kidnappers, but that was a subset of one and she certainly wasn't going to be the one to bring him up.

"According to your chart you were able to have another dose of pain killers as of half an hour ago." The nurse set down the tray she had been carrying.

"Then why wasn't anyone in here thirty minutes ago to give her something?" Gibbs asked harshly.

"Because this is a potent drug, and one that we don't want to use any more then necessary." Once she administered the medication, the nurse turned to face Gibbs. "Despite the stories I heard about you from my colleagues earlier today, I've bent the rules because I understand that you are all worried about your friend." She pointed to the sign hung on the wall that specified visiting hours that ended hours ago. "In return I would appreciate if you wouldn't question the way I do my job, one that I am very qualified for."

"Well she sure told you," Abby commented wryly once the nurse left the room.

"I guess she did." She had spoken exactly like he would have to anyone else. And she was right. "Does the arm feel better?"

"Yeah," she yawned. It might have been the pain medication or maybe not, but she didn't think she could stay awake any longer. "I'm going to take a nap, okay Gibbs? Don't let me sleep too long."

"I won't," Gibbs lied. He would let her sleep as long as her body allowed, and anyone who tried to wake her up would get more then a simple slap to the back of the head.

"Hey Gibbs?" Abby whispered a moment later. Her voice was faint and thick with sleep.

"What, Abbs?"

"When are they going to let me go home?" It wasn't so much that she had a dislike of the hospital, but she wanted to be in familiar surroundings again. The last few days had seemed an eternity.

"Soon." And that, he swore, was not a lie. He would get her out of here as soon as he could, and back to DC. Whether or not he'd let her return to her apartment, however, remained to be seen.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: I spent the last week in Louisiana, and am totally overcome by the emotion I felt. I have another chapter of this fic almost done, but most of my fic writing time this week has been spent on a new story that revolves around Abby and the aftermath of hurricane Katrina. As usual, I direct my emotion into my stories. It should be done in a week, and I intend to post every few days during November. If anyone is interested in seeing pics, feel free to check out my journal. (wiccagirl24 (dot) livejournal (dot) com)

II

The first thing Abby asked the nurse when she came in the next morning was when they would release her. The nurse told her that it was up to the doctor, who would be doing rounds in a couple of hours. It was not the answer Abby was hoping for. Before leaving the room the nurse handed her a tray with a bowl of green Jell-O and another of what was probably supposed to be oatmeal.

"Why do hospitals only ever have lime Jell-O?" Abby asked rhetorically as she poked at the offending food with her spoon.

"They don't want their patients getting too comfortable, Abbs." Tony reached for the Jell-O and tossed one of the squares into his mouth. "If they started serving the red kind, or heaven forbid real food, people might actually want to stay here."

"I don't think that food is at the root of most people's desire to leave the hospital, Tony," Ziva remarked.

"You have much to learn about American hospitals," Tony shot back. "And for your first lesson, I will teach you how to sneak real food into a hospital room. Come on."

"Where are we going?" Ziva asked, even as rose from her chair to join him.

"To get Abby and the rest of us breakfast, of course."

"Hey Tony?" Abby called out as the two agents left the room. "You might want to wash your face before you go anywhere. And don't forget to look in the mirror."

"Sure Abbs," he said absently. By the time he was halfway down the hallway he was trying to explain to Ziva what Jell-O was, though, and forgot all about Abby's warning.

"I'm afraid Mr. Palmer and I must be leaving," Ducky informed Abby. "We have reports that need to be filled today, in addition to other things."

"Don't forget the autopsy that is waiting for us, Dr. Mallard," Jimmy offered helpfully.

"Palmer!" Ducky, Gibbs, and McGee all exclaimed at the same time. Gibbs, being the closest to Jimmy, slapped him on the back of the head.

"Opps." It hadn't occurred to him, until he felt four pair of eyes starring at him, why he shouldn't mention the body that was waiting back at the morgue.

"What aren't you guys telling me?" She was used to Palmer's blunders, and probably wouldn't have paid any attention to what he had said. It was the reactions of the other men that convinced her that they were hiding something from her.

"We'll talk to you latter, Duck," Gibbs told his friends, subtly nodding his head towards the door.

"I'll be checking in on you soon, my dear," Ducky said. "And please do follow the doctor's orders, whatever they may be."

"McGee?" Abby asked pointedly when the ME and his assistant had left the room.

"I'm not sure... that is, I think that..." McGee stuttered.

"You should go out in the hallway to answer your phone call, McGee," Gibbs said pointedly.

"What phone call, Boss?"

"That one." When Gibbs dialed McGee's number into his own cell, McGee got the not so subtle hint.

"I don't like it when people keep things from me, Gibbs. I don't need protecting from whatever it is you are hiding."

"You're in a hospital bed. Do you really think I'm going to burden you with any more then I have to?" She was wrong when she said that she didn't need protecting. She needed a hell of a lot more then she had received, and that was something he would have to live with.

"Burden? I think I'm past the point of being burdened, Gibbs. I just spent the last four days wondering if each moment might be my last." Gibbs flinched at her words. "Telling me that the bastard that enjoyed having that kind of psychological control over me is dead is not a burden. It's a relief."

"I killed him," Gibbs said simply.

"I'm sure he didn't give you a choice," Abby proclaimed.

"He hurt you," was Gibbs' only reply.

II

"Where'd Gibbs go?" Tony asked when he entered the hospital room carrying a brown paper bag. His cheek was bright red from being scrubbed harshly, but there was still a faint trace of marker on the skin.

"To get a cup of coffee. I asked for a Caf-Pow! too, but from the glare he gave me I don't think he'll bring me one," Abby said.

"Good thing you have us looking out for you then." Tony motioned towards Ziva, who was carrying another paper bag and a familiar red plastic cup.

"Thank you," Abby smiled as Ziva handed her the drink. "I've been dying for one of these."

Dying. Neither Tony nor Ziva said anything at the comment that normally would have been a casual reference.

"So what else did you bring me?" Abby asked, ignoring the tension in the air.

"Breakfast burritos." He handed her one, unwrapping it first, and then took one out of the bag for himself. Ziva rolled the small table from the corner of the room the side of the bed, and the three of them sat in an awkward circle and ate their breakfast in silence.

II

Between the concussion and the dehydration the doctor wanted to keep an eye on her, so it wasn't until that evening that he agreed to release her. Even then, Abby suspected, it was because of a phone call Ducky had placed that afternoon. The weight of Ducky's name in the medical community reached even to doctors who treated the living, it seemed.

"You ready to go, Abbs?" Gibbs asked as he stood next to the wheelchair.

"Do I really need to answer that?" It was just the two of them again, the rest of the team having left for DC a few hours ago.

"Then let's get out of here. We have a couple of hours of driving time before we're home."

"Hours? It didn't seem that long the first time, but that might have been because I was unconscious," Abby joked morbidly.

"Abby, I…" Gibbs began.

"Sorry, Gibbs," Abby apologized. "That wasn't as funny as it sounded in my head. Let's go."

A nurse pushed Abby's wheelchair until they reached the lobby, then Gibbs took over. He helped Abby settle into the front seat of the car, and buckled her seatbelt. They hadn't been driving for more then ten minutes before she fell asleep, and she stayed that way for the rest of the trip. She didn't notice when they drove past the exit for her home, and barely stirred when he carried her into his house.


	14. Chapter 14

Spoilers: For "See No Evil"

A/N: Most grateful thanks to ncyiby for all of her help. The grammar and spelling fixes are so helpful, but it's your suggestions and feedback that are gold. Hugs!

II

Abby knew exactly where she was when she opened her eyes the next morning. The familiar blue comforter wrapped around her meant that she was in the guest bedroom at Gibbs' house, and she was glad that he had brought her here. Either he knew that she wasn't ready to be alone, or he was being his usual overprotective self, it didn't matter. She was in the one place where she knew that she was completely safe. Bert was tangled in the sheets next to her, and she hugged the stuffed animal to her and fell back asleep.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Gibbs asked when he walked into the room a few hours latter, carrying a tray of food.

"I have to pee," Abby said plainly from the edge of the bed, her feet on the floor and her hand on the table in an attempt to pull herself up.

"You should have called for me," Gibbs scolded.

"I've been peeing by myself for quite some time. I don't need an audience." Her arguing was pointless. Gibbs not only insisted on helping her out of the bed, but on picking her up and carrying her to the bathroom. He didn't make it past the bed though, as Abby panicked at the touch. She started to squirm and push against his chest. When he didn't release her she kicked her legs.

"Put me down now."

"I will just as soon as-"

"Now." she repeated darkly. She had stopped pushing against him, and in her stillness he could more easily hear the fear that tinted her voice. Gibbs worriedly set her down on the end of the bed.

"Abbs?" he asked, brushing his hand against her forehead. She refused to look at him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, pulling her knees to her chin. One arm wrapped around her legs while the other rested uselessly at her side.

"You have i nothing /i to be sorry for." He knelt on the floor, crouching down so that he could see her downcast face. "Just tell me what's wrong."

"He wouldn't let me go to the bathroom alone either," she said. "He led me there, his hand tight on my elbow, letting me know that he was the one in control."

Gibbs rested his hand on her leg, not knowing what to say.

"He was the last person to pick me up and carry me," she continued, her voice cracking. "And when you picked me up like that..."

Gibbs moved from the floor to the bed, sitting next to Abby up and pulling her onto his lap. He wrapped both of his arms around her, and rocked gently back and forth. When she started trembling he reached for a blanket and covered her with it.

"You're safe now, Abby. Watson will never hurt you again. No one will. And Watson wasn't the last person to carry you either, Abbs," Gibbs reassured her. "The last person to carry you was me, when I got you out the car and into bed."

Abby didn't answer, just tucked her head under Gibbs' chin and curled up even tighter into him.

"I tried, Gibbs," she said after a while. He almost thought she had fallen asleep, as limp as her body was against his.

"Tried what, Abbs?" He ran one hand down the back of her head, smoothing out her tousled hair.

"I tried to escape," she said, her voicing breaking on the last word as she remembered that fleeting moment when she thought she had almost made it. "I knew that if you were in the same situation you would have found a way to get out of there."

On hearing Abby's words, Gibbs pulled away from her so that he could see her face, and more importantly she could see his.

"You did everything right. You were smart, and you were brave. If you hadn't taken the risk and given us that message, I know we wouldn't have gotten to you as soon as we did." He hated to think of what would have

happened to her if they had taken any longer in finding her. The doctor had mentioned, as he was talking to Ducky, that she was so dehydrated that she was lucky there hadn't been any permanent brain or muscle damage. And then, of course, there was the madman with the gun.

"You got that?" Abby asked, feeling for the first time that she had done something right.

"I'm a trained investigator," Gibbs said teasingly. "Of course I got it. It was a smart thing to do. Dangerous, but smart."

"He didn't even notice. The moment the video camera turned on he started talking like you were in the room." She remembered the fear and excitement that had mingled together inside her when she'd realized that Watson hadn't caught her actions. "He hated you, Gibbs. He blamed you for everything bad that had happened to him, including-" Abby's eyes grew big and she stopped speaking mid-sentence.

i Sandy. /i The one thing Watson had been angriest about was loosing his daughter. His daughter, who Abby had held and comforted when she was afraid she was never going to see her mother again. The sweet little girl who had complimented Abby's voice. Sandy, who was now without a father because he was lying on a slab in Ducky's morgue.

"He should have come after me, instead of kidnapping you," Gibbs growled. "He was a coward."

"He wouldn't have done that, Gibbs. He knew he stood no chance against you."

"I wish he would have tried." Gibbs started to clench his hand into a fist, but realized just in time that it was resting on Abby's shoulder. "He would have gotten something a whole lot different then the money and a new life in another country he asked for."

"He didn't care about a new life. He wanted the old one back, and if he couldn't have that then he wanted to drag you into his hell. He was going to kill me," she said, immediately regretting her revelation as she felt Gibbs tense beneath her. Gibbs clenched his jaw so tight that she could see each muscle defined.

"I would never have let that happen," he said finally. His voice was pitched low, and had a hard edge to it. She believed him completely.


End file.
